Reid
The throne room. The one location in the palace I hadn't visited until now. The walls were off-white, bare but for an occasional painting of a past monarch. There was no real need for much in the way of hanging decorations, as the grandeur of the rest of the room made for an amazing view.
Lacy scarlet curtains complemented the red, feathery pattern of the plush carpet. A grand canopy, scarlet and gold in intricate formations, sheltered the stage upon which two gold-and-red thrones were placed. Behind and between the thrones was the flag of Denmark, red with a white cross. Known as the Dannebrog, it was the oldest flag in the world, flown in the oldest kingdom. It was the heritage of our people, summed up in a single symbol.
How fitting that James and I should be standing on the stage with the flag, on the verge of announcing the beginning of our own heritage.
James had sent for the court to be gathered, and a few respectful members of the press had been allowed to join. Now they all filled the throne room, their eyes glued on us. Competitors, assistants, servants, relatives, and the Queen herself stood there, watching us. I saw hope and curiosity and understanding on their faces, along with a few sour grimaces. Nearly all of them had guessed the reason they were here.
I clutched James's hand, trying to keep standing straight despite being so nervous I was making myself sick. The presence of guards all around the room was both a comfort and a distraction. It was difficult to imagine that I, an ordinary man, could be in a situation like this, where a happy announcement required security and protection.
But this was what I had signed up for. Literally.
James cleared his throat, and the slight chatter in the room died down. Everyone leaned closer to us, and the press lifted their cameras and microphones.
"I'm sure that all of you are dying to know why you've been gathered here. I'd also be willing to bet that a great number of you have managed to guess the reason. All that remains is to confirm it."
Someone in the audience let out a soft gasp. I couldn't tell who. The people in the crowd had ceased to exist as individuals for me. They were a singular, watchful mass with dozens of eyes and tendrils of tentacle hair, like a bizarre monster.
James continued, "The truth is that the rumors are correct. Reid is pregnant. And the baby is mine. I, grandson of Queen Delia Cobb, have produced an heir."
In the aftermath of the announcement, no one said anything at all. Then, a single individual started to clap. It was the queen herself, her elderly hands pattering together so fast I was surprised by her dexterity. Her whole face had transformed, turned from a wise old woman to a beautiful young lady because of the massive smile she wore. Her eyes twinkled in the lights.
As if the queen's applause had broken some spell of silence, the other members of the audience started to react. There were more gasps, a few cries of disbelief. More people began to clap, the beats of their hands surging into full blown applause. Yells of congratulations and praise burst free of the rest of the clamor.
All I could really do was stand there and smile, too happy to have any words to say, too overwhelmed to be able to say them even if I did. It hadn't really occurred to me how many people had been waiting for months and months.
This pregnancy was bigger than merely myself and James. This was a moment that would change the path of the future forever, for the entire country. The history books would recount an idealized version of this for centuries.
Queen Delia was the first to step forward, holding out her hand. She grasped at James, bending him to her for a congratulatory kiss on the cheek. He obliged her, grinning from ear to ear.
